


The rhyme of the dead

by Tombstoneandme



Series: Anarchy [1]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, finished - Fandom - Fandom, Шерлок Холмс | Sherlock Holmes (TV 2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-07 12:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tombstoneandme/pseuds/Tombstoneandme
Summary: Sherlock Holmes and his friends are on way to see his brother, Mycroft. Once they reach their, everything is in chaos. It was when they find Mycroft's office trashed and all his flies on Moriarty missing...that something sinister has happened.It has been six years since Moriarty killed himself. Six long years that have constantly tested Sherlock. Now with the latest episode over in his life- he thinks nothing could possibly get worse.But now people are calling for his blood, calling him a  liar.  John has no idea what to do, as he watches everything fall apart. Everything about this sinister plot and the missing files., speaks of Moriarty.But he is dead. Or is he?





	1. Chapter 1

So er- this was wrote ages before the last series of the show. So Mary is alive in it and doesn't have a kid right now. But i have changed it slightly- so it takes place after everything with Eurus. You may find spoilers in here for the show. But again, I wrote this ages ago xD


	2. Chapter one

Nothing had happened in the year since Eurus. It had gone peaceful but John and Mary were on edge constantly. Something was bound to happen. When? They had no idea. Sherlock was also the same, it was constantly one thing after another. But today, under a rare English sun- it would be fine. Or so they thought. 

The car pulled outside Mycroft's manor. It was stunning with red brick and diamond pane windows. Carefully looked after shrubbery and not an out of place flower. Sherlock knew Mycroft did not plant these flowers himself. He would remind his brother of that fact, he thought smirking to himself. 

Soon they were on the check board floor. Even though they visited regularly now, Mary was still in wonder at everything. There suits of armour and great big oil paintings. Sherlock saw no wonder in this but John did. he always felt a little out of place John, like he was standing in the wrong place. 

"Ah brother." replied Mycroft appearing in one of his usual pin striped suits. "I trust you are well." Sherlock looked at his brother then replied: "Do you garden Mycroft?" Mycroft sent Sherlock a look and shook his head. John had to stop himself laughing. No matter what these two brothers went through, they still managed to find some sort dig. 

Mary smiled as a servant with long blonde hair smiled at her and carried trays back to the kitchen, they clattered against each other noisily but no one was bothered. This manor was full of life and it was wonderful. As they made their towards the library, which Mary loved- they were a high pitched scream. 

Sherlock was in instant detective mode and ran for the sound, which was Mycroft's office. The woman had fake red hair pilled on her head but was staring at the open door. Sherlock followed her gaze and froze. 

The room was a mess. His computer was smashed and the filing cabinet were spilling out with stuff. Flies littered the floor like confetti and then Sherlock felt his blood go cold. There was writing all over the walls. In thin or thick writing were the same word. Magpie. 

Sherlock froze confusion fogging his mind as Mycroft yelled in fury. Why had they drawn bad magpies all over the wall? Let alone write it? His mind worked at a hundred miles per hour. Magpies were known to steal shiny objects. Magpies were intelligent. Magpies had a rhyme. John and no one else was seeing this was Sherlock looked around and began to look for what could be missing. 

it seemed Mycroft had beat him to that as he opened his badly battered computer somehow, and looked at it confused. Mycroft raced to his cabinet and opened it. It was gone! It was all gone- someone had erased the documents on his computer and taken the flies. 

"What?" snapped Sherlock, knowing they both knew something was missing now. Mycroft slumped in his chair and put a hand to his mouth in complete silence. "Someone has taken all the flies on James Moriarty." That name sent fear down Sherlock as he looked at his brother like he was mad. 

Mycroft quickly texted his people and told them to bring recovery equipment but somehow he doubted that he would get those back. Where they missing in the government office base? If so- why not take all the flies but only the ones on him? 

Mycroft felt the horrible gut wrench- this was the start of something horrible. He hated to think about it, but it was. He had never heard anyone entered this office and he had been in here an hour before. No one had told him anyone entered. He knew he had to question his staff. 

*

Two hours later Mycroft was no closer to finding out who destroyed his office and committed a federal crime. All the people were saying the same thing- they saw no one enter! Sherlock knew after the hundredth time they interviewed the people, someone had to be lying but him and Mycroft could not figure out who! 

John sat with Mary clutching her hand. Or more so Mary clutching his hand. Mary could see the fear in John's eyes and wished she could say something to stop it, but there was nothing one could say at this point. Nothing someone could do. 

it was the unspoken question everyone was thinking: What was going to happen? Mycroft had found a small note under his desk that said one for sorrow. Everyone knew the magpie rhyme, but this? Was someone just trying to scare them or legitimately going to start a war? 

Mary turned away and took a deep breath of the air, which now tasted stale. All she knew, was someone was going to die.


	3. Chapter two

Sherlock was tense and rightly so. Mycroft had found a note under desk. Sherlock was with John and Mary as they calmly walked into Scotland Yard. People mingled about, a girl with black hair reading a funeral book, a man with ginger hair shouting down an Iphone and so many other people, he lost count. Scotland Yard was always busy.

Lestrade had been informed that a copy cat could arrive and all hell would break loose. The newspaper so far had no found out about this. Sherlock was thankful about that, the way the media was run, was ruthless and horrible. He did not need to be called a liar at this point in time. 

Lestrade's new apprentice walked in. Sherlock and him actually got on. Sherlock knew the man was smart. he was always telling Scotland yard ways in which to process a crime scene. He was tall with a head of ginger hair and a few grey streaks in it. He had bright green eyes and the corner of his eyes would crinkle as he laughed. he was one of the few people, Sherlock did not call stupid.

"Yes Lucian?" asked Lestrade as Lucian smiled and replied: "My time to go home. But I will shall be back tomorrow. I think we might be making a break through on that other case." Sherlock scowled, this case he was referring to was the case of an oldish man. He had been found dead in his house- but no one had broken in. Yes there was no pills or sign of a struggle. but somehow there was a stab wound on his chest. It had been determined he had died in his house as well.

Sherlock had been itching to get that case but decided he would see how well Lucian would deal with it first. Lucian walked out saluting at Lestrade who smirked slightly then turned to Sherlock. "So the note said one for sorrow?" Lestrade sat back in his leather chair, it creaked slightly as he thought some more. "What like the magpie rhyme?"

"Yes." replied Mary before Sherlock could say remark. He shot her a look but then went into to explain what had happened at his brothers manor. Lestrade listened with growing unease and said: "so any ideas as to why they want documents on him?" Lestrade still hated saying Jim Moriarty and it made him shudder. Sherlock Replied: "right now no. But I have a few ideas. To see what his crime spree was in more detail and doing that themselves or finding out more information on myself." However, this didn't feel right to Sherlock at all.

He was missing something but he...he had no idea what. John sighed and then replied: "we will let you know if anything else comes up." Lestrade nodding as his phone started blaring and Sherlock rose after his best friend. Outside in the brisk wind, nothing still made any sense to him. No one could figure out how someone got into his manor and left leaving no evidence. 

Cars blared up and down the streets. Soon they were in a taxi and back at Baker street. As they went into the room, Sherlock's phone rung. they had been gone a little over an hour. So why was Lestrade ringing him suddenly? Sherlock answered it and froze, confusion and horror flying over his face. 

"We will be there right away." John turned looking at Sherlock as he put the phone away and barked: "Come on. Someone has found Lucian dead." Mary felt like the world had stopped and looked at Sherlock. 

They had only just seen him...how could he be dead?


	4. Chapter three

Once they got to the crime scene, Mary hung back- not wanting to see someone she knew dead. John and Sherlock made their way forward. He had been shot down in an alley way, nasty bullet in the middle of his forehead. Sherlock took a deep breath and bent down, careful to not touch the body. Unless he had too. 

There was dirt on his boots but the ground was dry and there was no mud nearby. He scowled and took some of the mud and placed it in a cloth. He would have to figure out where this mud was coming from. he put it carefully in his pocket. While Sherlock was busy, John was looking at a flyer for a dance at a place in London called Carablanca Tango Club. But it was the name of the flyer that made his blood freeze. 

Two for mirth- the dance! John saw the magpie in the corner and whirled to Sherlock swallowing. It was some charity event that was going to take place but- this was not good at all. This was confirming what no one wanted to believe- they had been planning it. Sherlock rose when he noticed the purple flyer in John's hand. 

John looked at him and Sherlock swallowed. Lucian had been on his way to this. or it had been given to him. Either way this was a lead and they had to go to it. Lestrade appeared seconds later and put his hands over his face. He was deeply upset by this. Lucian was only twenty five and had been a great kid- why did this have to happen to him? 

"I need you to see where the mud on his boots is from." snapped Sherlock pushing the muddy cloth into Lestrade's hand as he looked at Sherlock confused. But he was use to requests like this. Without a word he tucked it in his pocket to give to Molly, and see what came out of it. 

The best friends walked up to Mary who paused watching them. John held the flyer up and she froze going white in the face. "Do we have too?" she whispered as Sherlock nodded and ordered them into a Taxi. The dance was tomorrow, on a Thursday but he wanted to make sure Mycroft was aware. 

Sherlock said this on the phone, Mary and John had gone home. As Sherlock got up to his flat- he paused. Mrs Hudson had let a boy in a grey hoodie sit down. But Sherlock froze. He had told this boy- 

"Why are you here?" snapped Sherlock feeling his gut wrench and it was not a good feeling. The boy rose and Sherlock felt his face go white. There was a nasty bloody cut down his face and there was a tremble in his hands. He swallowed and replied: "Now Mr 'olmes I know ya told me to not find ya, unless well..." he paused not wanting to say what he had to say. "Well for a couple of months now, weird things 'ave been 'appening." he replied in his thick cockney accent. "First a criminal mastermind went into 'iding saying he was not gonna carry on. Then he turned up dead in the Thames." Sherlock froze, he had been on that case. He had never thought it was anything more than another criminal jsut shooting him for money gain. 

"Then petty criminals like me started to 'ide and then I was out walkin' as you do." he replied as Sherlock scowled at him, not believing him for a second. He was probably stealing something but part of the deal was, he would not dob him in. "And they came outta nowhere!" he barked furiously. "Told me they knew I was in league with ya and told me that ya could do nothing about it. They are coming and ain't gonna 'old back like before." Sherlock froze and took a breath. 

"Moriarty is dead." the boy shrugged and replied: "Whatever man. I think he is alive and so does 'alf of London's criminals." Sherlock watched as the boy left. He had kept the boy ever since Moriarty died, as a guard to tell him if Moriarty's network ever flared up again. Sherlock swallowed. 

He would never come unless it did. And there he was. But Moriarty was dead. 

Sherlock yelled and slammed his hand across his table top knocking his laptop off the side. "He is dead!" roared Sherlock as there was a cough and Sherlock turned. Mycroft stood there clutching his umbrella between his hands watching his brother. He knew who that boy was and what Sherlock had got him to do. "Someone is pretending to be him." snapped Sherlock not able to stop the shake in his hand as Mycroft replied: "Sherlock, i hate to-" 

"He is dead!" roared Sherlock at the top of his lungs.


	5. Chapter four

Sherlock did not sleep that night. It made no sense- he kept replaying Moriarty's death over and over in his mind. He was dead. He had to be! John walked in to see the room in a mess- more so than it was- and froze. Sherlock was delirious and utterly furious. "Sherlock!" yelled John concerned for his best friend. "What is wrong?" 

"Someone has got a hold of Moriarty's network and is using it!" barked Sherlock furiously as John paused feeling horror worm its way into his chest. He pushed it down and replied: "Sherlock we will find them. I promise." whispered John as Mary walked in her dancing dress, which happened to be the dress she got engaged in. John was in a black suit and well, Sherlock was still in his purple shirt and black blazer from yesterday. Knowing they could not get hi to change, they all took off. 

Once outside, they paused. It was six in the evening but people were mingled about. A girl with short black hair and brown eyes was talking to man with green dread locks in a blue suit smiling. Another lady with blonde hair was looking at her scotch in a purple dress, bored. There were so many people it was difficult to see where the crowd began and ended. Sherlock swallowed down the apprehension he had and moved into the crowd with John hot on his heels. 

When they got into the bar/dance area they saw flyers and magpies everywhere. Sherlock swallowed- something was going to go terrible tonight and he was going to make sure no one died. But then you never knew with things like this. 

John watched as Adrian, the man on the flyer, who was hosting the event tapped a microphone and started to speak into it. His voice was droning and annoying. John scowled, everyone was having a good time. There was not one thing out of place. Sherlock sighed as the night carried on and nothing happened. 

They were leaving scratching their heads when there was a scream. Sherlock whirled around, the girl in the green dress who tattoos up her arms, with the short black hair was pointing at something swaying. Sherlock tilted his eyes up as more screams erupted and there hanging by a rope was Adrian. With numbers on his forehead. Sherlock scowled- why were there coordinates painted in blood on his forehead? 

but then he paused as it hit him like a bullet. Those coordinates were leading straight to his grave. To Sherlock's grave. Sherlock put a hand to his mouth as people began to scream and ten minutes later Lestrade and people were shoving them out of the room. Sherlock watched as guests leaving with a promise Scotland yard would be contacting them. 

"What?" said Mary pulling her throw around herself, against the bitterly cold wind. "Those coordinates lead to my grave." John froze as Mycroft appeared from nowhere and swung his umbrella back and forth. "So- what-" Sherlock interrupted him and let him know all the details. Mycroft nodded and replied: "Then lets go and fast." 

They got to the grave in the nick of time. it seemed someone still felt Sherlock was dead. Old flowers. They were small and white and slightly decayed and brown in areas. Mary froze, she knew those flowers from anywhere. She had an apple tree in her yard when she was younger. She paused as no one else seemed to notice. Mary turned when she saw a man. 

He was blonde and leaning against the church wall smoking. He had a white shirt unbuttoned and had a scar running down the side of his face. She felt her blood go cold and the colour go from her face. She knew that face from anywhere. She did not know his name- but she knew that face. "Mary!" snapped Sherlock and Mary turned blinking and then turned back. The man was gone. 

"Yes?" she asked shivering under the moonlight. She had no idea why that man was there but she felt it was not a good sign at all. "what is wrong?" asked Sherlock again worried for his friend who paused. "Doesn't matter but those flowers are from an apple tree." Sherlock went white and now whirled to it and slowly picked it up as Mycroft got a really horrible sinking feeling. 

"Sherlock..." said Mycroft as nicely and calmly as he could. "Are you sure Moriarty is dead?" Sherlock whirled to his brother furious when a bright light flashed at them and they all blinked the spots from their eyes. Mary turned slowly- their in the bushes was a reporter. 

And now he was running, yelling-Moriarty is alive! But how did the reporter get there? Mary turned back to where she had seen the man and had a feeling he was part of it.


	6. Chapter five

Sherlock held the apple branch in his hand and looked at the next days paper, or the multitude of them on his coffee table. Each had the same heading: DETECTIVE LIED! MORIARTY IS ALIVE! Sherlock tossed them aside as john entered with a steaming cup of coffee in a plastic cup with a lid for him. 

"Seen it huh?" he replied scowling and put it down in front of him. Sherlock said nothing and sighed running a hand through his curly locks. "it does not make sense. Why is someone using his name?" snapped Sherlock as Mrs Hudson appeared with the days letters or junk mail on him needing a car or a hammer. he took it without looking and went to throw it when something looked up at him. Mark- the boy he had spoke to with the thick cockney accent told him, word of the street was that Moriarty was back but if it not- there was a girl who could help out to track this criminal down. 

So now Sherlock and John were headed towards a small run down bookshop on Brick lane. People stopped and gave Sherlock a look. Between a sneer and helplessness. Most of them wanted to help him but most ran away. Fearing that man was back and if they got to close, they would be next. Sherlock sighed and rapped his knuckles on the old glass door. 

it flew open and Sherlock stared at the girl- she had been at the party yesterday and was the one who screamed. She was breathless and in a thin white shirt. There was still tattoos up her arms as she smiled at them and replied: "Can I 'elp you gentlemen?" Sherlock was struck- how could she possibly help him? "Mark...." trailed off Sherlock not sure if this girl was seriously the right person. He noted strangely, that her right wrist had a blank place. But the rest of her arm was covered in tattoos. 

"Oh yeah." she replied with a slight Cockney accent. "What he done now?" she laughed letting them in the bookshop. John was marvelled instantly by the sight. Books trailed up the ceilings and there were piles everywhere. John was soon lost in this as sea of books and waves of books. he had never seen a book store quite like it! 

John shook his head of the cob webs and saw Sherlock looking at the girl. "He has not done a thing." he remarked. "But he told me that you could possibly help in finding a criminal." she sighed and then rolled her eyes. "He thinks to 'ighly of me." she muttered smirking at him then shrugging. She had carefree brown eyes and a light smile on her face. Her right hand Sherlock noted a nasty long scar but did not comment. She saw him looking and replied: "Got a pair of scissors stuck in me 'and." She laughed it off as it was nothing and replied: "What criminal am I lookin' for then?" she said sitting on the counter and grinning at them. "I can find just about anyone." 

Sherlock saw intelligence in the girl and paused. "What is your name?" 

"Hera." she replied with a wide grin. Sherlock paused- the name Hera was very old fashioned and Greek. In mythology Hera had been married to Zeus. "That is a different name." replied John beating Sherlock. She smiled and replied: "Me father is unusual." she replied laughing. "But anyway." She jumped down, she was short but thin. "What criminal do ya want me to go after Mr 'olmes?" 

"Someone is using James Moriarty's network." replied Sherlock calmly as the girl had a flicker of fear on her face but replaced it soon. "Why would anyone do that for?" she replied raising an eyebrow. "Thought 'e was dead." Sherlock some reason felt relief the girl was believing him and not running away. John saw the relief and felt relief himself. "He is." replied Sherlock as she shrugged and replied: "Alright. I will find em." 

"Payment?" asked Sherlock as she shrugged and replied: "Didn't old Mark tell ya? I don't really do anything for payment." Sherlock froze his mouth falling slightly open as John's did. A criminal who did not want payment and would do something off their own back? "Whole of London's underworld is in turmoil. Rather just figure it out then...ya know." Sherlock understood perfectly. it was better to find who it was for no payment and cause the underworld to be put at ease, then wait for everything to explode in their faces. 

Sherlock left with John after giving the details to the girl of the crimes being done. "She seemed nice." replied John scowling. Too nice. Also he was sure he had seen her somewhere but he couldn't place where. "Yes. A little too nice." replied Sherlock scowling, finally letting John realise he was wondering why she had been too nice. "Only time will tell if she will actually do what we ask." John nodded biting his lip and thinking. "Why was she at the event?" Sherlock nodded and replied: "She might have known Adrian. After all the research I did on him, he was partial to using criminals." 

John scowled and shrugged. "Alright- well I hope we did not just give information to a criminal who will run to the papers." Sherlock smirked and replied: "I doubt it. I reckon she has a bad criminal history and she would rather not have that published."


	7. Chapter six

Mary and John were sat in Sherlock's flat. he was pacing back and forth still thinking but he was tired. John saw horrible dark rings under his eyes and wanted the man to go and get some sleep, but he knew Sherlock would not listen. Not when his brain was this fired up. 

So they say looking at the newspaper. Other papers were now claiming Sherlock was liar and deserved to tell the truth. Where was Moriarty? What was he up too? Mycroft was in his own office. He was stressed and had no idea how to tell Sherlock that in his grave- was Lucian. He still had no idea how the body got there- when it was meant to be in the morgue! 

In fact Mycroft was starting to have doubts on whether Moriarty was dead or not. he had pulled records up and found...there had never been another body on the roof. So now, he was stuck in the middle. Was his brother telling the truth? Or was Moriarty dead and his body else where? 

Mycroft had not been told of the recent events and Sherlock enlisting the help of Hera. The door opened and a new person appeared. She had dark purple hair and wore a dark blue suit and smiled at Mycroft. "So- the dirt on his shoes was from an old cemetery near the outskirts of London." Mycroft sighed- his brother had left him to that. "I will go." he replied rising from behind his desk. 

That is how Mycroft ended up looking at a old disused church, with a caved in roof and broken grave stones. He looked around, he was unsure as to why Lucian would be here. What did he gain from this stupid graveyard? Mycroft tapped his finger on the umbrella handle and turned. A girl with short black hair and in a burgundy shirt, with tattoos up her arms had entered. Headphones dangled from her ears as she carried a sketch book under her arm. 

She looked around then saw Mycroft and scowled. "What are you doing here?" she said with a posh English accent. Mycroft looked at the girl and replied: "i might ask you the same thing." She raised an eyebrow and replied: "Well, it is not everyday a man in a pin striped suit looks around this graveyard." Mycroft paused and realised she was right- he looked extremely odd. 

She had a grey hoodie over the burgundy shirt and blue jeans. She had rather beat up red trainers but seemed fine otherwise. Mycroft scowled, seeing a very detailed drawing of a man on the paper. "What is young lady like yourself doing out here?" 

"Find it peaceful." she replied as a bird landed on her arm and she smiled. Mycroft saw there was no point in trying to ask this girl anything. As he walked past her he caught another glimpse of the drawing but carried on walking. only when he was driving away and barked at the driver to stop, did he realise why the drawing was bothering him. 

She had drawn James Moriarty. 

*

Sherlock had fallen gone to sleep when Mary and John left. But by the time he woke up, he was heading back to Brick lane. It was not busy at four in the morning but Sherlock paused. Hera was sat on a bench, a sketch book open on her knee. She froze seeing Sherlock and smiled. "Alright mr 'olmes?" Sherlock smiled at her tensely and she closed her sketch book. "I came to see if you have had any progress." 

She shrugged and went to smile when it went from her face and Sherlock turned. A group of thugs with bats were walking towards her. Horror went on her face and Sherlock got her on her feet instantly. "Come on!" 

"Get her!" roared one of them as Hera gasped and flooded with Sherlock. They ran through the street but the group were behind them. her heart was in her mouth and there was livid fear on her face. Sherlock kept a hold of her wrist and then saw the abandoned warehouse. "Quick!" he pointed up at the broken window and his mouth fell slightly open. She was quick and had scaled the wall. As he did the same, the group flew past yelling they would tear her heart out and throw it in her face. Hera fell against the wall breathing heavily still clutching her sketch book. 

It was in her grip white knuckled and she looked horrified. Sherlock took a deep breath then turned to her when they heard a noise. Sherlock felt his eyes widen as he saw a person in a hoodie painting the fourth magpie rhyme on the wall. Sherlock grabbed Hera and pushed her to the other side and out of the way. Sherlock kept his breathing low- there was too many people around them and he would never be able to get that person yet. 

"Is it done?" snapped a voice, Sherlock did not know but it was English. "Of course." replied the voice back, but it was too low. "Now get to the British museum!" Sherlock looked at Hera who swallowed. "I will follow em- go." she whispered sticking the stuff in her bag and creeping out as Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped to John what had happened. 

Hera was gone from sight as Sherlock rose and slipped out the way they had entered. He felt fear for the girl but she was fast. Sherlock smiled telling himself, she would be fine. He had got sentimental after everything. As he met up with John and Mary- they walked up the steps of the museum. 

And broke in.


	8. Chapter seven

Sherlock, John and Mary entered the quiet building. It was deafening at four in the morning. A clock somewhere ticked slowly and it felt like time was moving slow. The security system had been turned off. Sherlock held the gun up in his hands, it was cold and cool against his hands. Mary walked behind them feeling useless when she froze, she turned and saw him- the man with the scar on his face. She froze her eyes narrowing and went to snap at John and Sherlock- when horror hit her. 

They were gone. 

*

Sherlock continued on as John noticed his wife was missing. "Mary?" he hissed and walked forward when he turned back- Sherlock was gone. He cursed looking around him and that many skulls glaring back at him. Now he was stuck- he had no idea where his wife was and now his best friend had walked off. 

*

Sherlock froze, he realised then no one was near him. He cursed under his breath when he paused. The person in the grey hoodie was back but this time a woman with long purple hair was looking around as they took art off the walls and placed bombs. They were small enough to be concealed but this was bad. Sherlock froze waiting to hear what they would say. "Four for a birth. I did very well, don't you think Marcus?" The hoodie came down showing a man with blue hair and he smirked. "really well! Half of England is up in arms because they think it is Moriarty behind it. God rest his soul." 

The woman burst out laughing and replied: "Rest his soul? He is alive you idiot." Marcus whirled to her and laughed. "Ye-" she rolled her eyes placing art work carefully on the hook and carried on ignoring him. "His network has been interfering with my work. And clients have started appearing again." Marcus froze the colour going from his face as he hissed: "And you are mad!" he was not happy- going against that man was like starting a nuclear war. he would blow up at any time! 

"Possibly." she replied shrugging when there was a noise and Sherlock shrunk around the door frame as her eyes looked over towards him but paused. She looked around her. Someone had laughed- it had been a laugh. They were sure of it. She set the bomb carefully on the floor and drew the gun from her side nodding to Marcus as Sherlock poked his head around again watching. 

*

Mary found John and paused: "Where is-" She did not say anymore as John grabbed her and they fell behind a large bronze plate. They had seen it- a person in a grey suit with a cream tie. A mask had been pulled over their face. John swallowed, he had no idea who it was but they had a menacing look in their brown eyes. "Call Mycroft." whispered Mary as John picked up his phone and told Mycroft what was happening. 

He put the phone away and slowly they both walked after the man in the grey suit. As they followed- the more it was a man. They had black hair that was tied back but some fell in front of their eyes. John stopped Mary as they saw the great big pieces of art work and a woman with purple hair. 

"Really well! Half of England is up in arms because they think Moriarty is alive! God rest his soul." replied a boy voice as John scowled. What was the man in front of them doing? he was leaning on the banister over looking the gallery, with his chin in his palm and tapping his foot against the floor. 

"Rest his laugh?" the woman with purple hair threw her head back laughing. "he is alive you idiot!" John felt his hair rise on his neck as something happened- John was back in that court room. Where Moriarty was in the grey suit and cream tie. "Oh my god." whispered John horrified at who was standing in front of them. it was the worse feeling he had ever felt- well not the worse. Thinking Sherlock had died had hurt him more than words could describe. but now this? How was the man even alive? 

Before John could even contemplate it- Jim walked down the stairs leading into the gallery. 

*

Sherlock watched as the woman snapped at Marcus but when that laugh happened the atmosphere changed. Suddenly, Sherlock felt like his world crashed around him. A figure in a grey suit and cream tie walked out. A mask over the mouth. But Sherlock knew those eyes anywhere. James Moriarty. 

He swallowed and tried to keep his heart from racing but it was no use. He was terrified. He hated feeling this way but he was terrified. 

Images flashed through his mind and he pushed them down as Marcus yelled in shock. The woman paused her mouth falling open as all the colour drained form her face. "You-you are not dead." she said breathlessly as Jim walked forward and kicked a bomb without regard. The woman held her breath but luckily she had not armed them yet. Jim said nothing and paused looking at her as the woman replied: "I am Varian Vargas-" 

"I know who you are." snapped the Irish accent making Sherlock put a hand to his head but then his eyes snapped open. That was a womans voice! Not a mans voice! Varian paused confusion flew across her face as Marcus whirled to her. "James is a man! Not a woman!" The hands reached up and they were slender like a woman. 

Sherlock watched with bated breath as the mask fell off the face and the black hair fell around the face. He felt his stomach contract in horror as he realised who he was staring at. 

Hera.


	9. Chapter eight

Sherlock froze, ice cold blood went through his veins. Hera. Hera. Hera. His mind screamed her name over and over again. How did he not see it? But- he could not understand right now. Varian paused and stumbled backwards. "How- what? Youa re dead." she snarled finally holding the gun at her as Marcus paused then held the gun at Hera as well. 

"Not really." she replied not dropping the Irish accent. "I guess that runs in the family." she whispered her eyes boring holes into Varian, whose hand was shaking. "Family? You-" Hera burst out laughing and replied: "You have no guessed? My god you are slow." she rolled her eyes and took off the grey jacket. There on her right wrist was a tattoo in cursive writing with an apple. Sherlock froze and put his hands to his mouth. "Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain?" snarled Varian as Hera turned and smiled. "Something my father use to say." 

Varian burst out laughing when Marcus turned the gun on her and she froze horrified. Hera bent down and started to slowly dismantle the bombs. "And I run his network." she whispered darkly under her breath. Sherlock scowled- what the hell was Hera doing? Why would she care about people dying? "Marcu-" 

"he works for you stupid lady." snapped Hera unwinding some cords and worked impossibly fast. "Leave now or die." replied Hera as Varian replied: "Anarchy-" whispered Varian horrified as Sherlock froze. Anarchy? Her name was Hera? Or was that just another lie?

"I watched you die Anarchy!" Hera/Anarchy burst out laughing and replied: "Get lost Varian Vargas. Those diamonds are never going to be yours." Varian screamed and whirled out of the room furiously as John with Mary appeared in the other door frame. Sherlock appeared this time and held the gun at Anarchy, who paused and snapped:" Put the bloody gun down- I am dismantling these bombs." 

"Hera. Anarchy." snapped Sherlock as her face went white and she turned to him. "What even is your name?" Anarchy froze as John held a gun at her and replied: "Okay- seriously-" suddenly there was a loud beeping noise and Anarchy froze. There was a noise and Mary saw the man enter. He paused seeing them then snapped: "You- Anarchy! What the hell are you doing sending me across London for!" Anarchy smirked and then giggled- she had laughed up stairs. "You just get in the way." 

"But-" he put his head in his hands and then turned to Mary and smiled. "Hello again. I am shocked to see you are not dead." Anarchy froze on the floor and looked up. her eyes went wide and she whirled to Mary but then there was a louder beeping noise. Anarchy froze confusion over her face. "its not here." 

"What?" snapped Sherlock not lowering his gun. "This is fake!" roared Anarchy as Mary and John froze. Marcus froze as well and Anarchy got up and turned to the door way. "Oh my god it is fake!" She raced past the blonde man who grabbed her arm and she yelped in pain. 

"You will stop!" roared the man but then something happened. he yelled as Anarchy slammed her fist into his face and ran. She was fast with a wild look of horror on her face. John felt confused- since when would a Moriarty care about if people died? But Sherlock saw something in the girl and raced after her. Marcus stared at his friend's step father and paused horrified. She actually punched him in the nose. John got over his shock and yelled at his best friend to stop but it was too late. 

Sherlock was racing after the girl down the street yelling. Mycroft got out of the car when the girl he had seen in the graveyard, raced past him yelling there was a bomb in some other place. Mycroft paused having no idea what she was yelling at . "Anarchy!" screamed Sherlock furiously but once again, he found it impossible to get her to stop. "Jesus Christ!" he yelled furiously and raced after the girl who was quick on her feet. Sherlock's heart hammered against his chest. He was being crazy! he should have left her to the hands of Mycroft but now Mycroft was yelling at him to stop. 

John got onto the side walk as Sherlock pounded after the girl. A night club was across the street. Anarchy froze and looked at the busy street. Mary knew she had to do something and fast. The girl was going to get herself killed! Yanking her hand out of her husbands she raced apst Sherlock as the girl ran across the road. headlights hit her and Mary pushed her legs harder and jumped. The girl screamed as they both crashed into the side walk hard. 

Pain flew up Mary's shoulder as the girl rolled from her and hit a wall. There was a screech of tires and the smell of burning tire. Anarchy rose and paid no attention to Mary and turned her attention to people streaming out of the nightclub. Panic was threatening to engulf Anarchy but she had no choice. 

With all the power she could muster, she threw herself past the bouncer yelling at her. Lights made her hot instantly and sweat instantly ran down her back. The music was vibrating in her chest as she pushed people aside. Varian was not here but one of her thugs were. She had to get people out and fast. Fumbling for the gun in her pocket she pulled it out and raised it in the air. 

Taking a deep breath and calming herself, she pulled the trigger. The effect was instant. People exploded and ran for the doors. Anarchy took a moment and shoved her gun away and then was on the floor. She screamed at the bouncer when Sherlock appeared and ripped him off her. "Go!" yelled Sherlock and she nodded her thanks and dived for it- when it hit her. 

Sherlock knew it was too late and grabbed the girl throwing her to the floor. It was then as he covered them both with his coat- the whole place exploded. 

 

(How do you like this so far?)


	10. Chapter nine

Anarchy, her ears were ringing. Dust was clogging her throat as Sherlock got off her and turned. There was smoke everywhere and his own ears were ringing. he turned to see the worse of the explosion was behind them and somehow missed them. Anarchy rose stumbling as Sherlock grabbed her arm as people pilled in. It was then Sherlock could hear John screaming his name. 

Sherlock let the girls arm go and stumbled out of the building. John was relieved to see Sherlock was only cut on his cheek and covered in soot. He sighed in relief as Mary grabbed him in a hug before John could. "Anarchy?" whispered Mary as Sherlock froze and ran back in. When he looked around and saw people moaning in pain- he was stuck. 

Anarchy had vanished into the night and asking around he found, no one had seen her leave. Sherlock walked out as John snapped: "Is she not there?" 

"Is not who there?" snapped Mycroft calmly leaning on his umbrella, calming his heart down. He was glad his brother was fine. "Anarchy." replied John bitterly but Sherlock shot him a look and replied: "Anarchy. She has been doing some work for me. As you know Moriarty's network is up and running again, so she is trying to find out who it is." Sherlock cursed himself for lying to his brother but the girl had tried to save everyones lives- not end them. He was still confused by her. She was obviously still using the network....

He shook his head free of the cob webs and knew him and Anarchy would meet very soon. 

*

Anarchy knew entering her home in Singleton London, would cause a massive row. She swallowed down the nerves and pushed open the black door. The floor under her feet was like a chess board and glittered but soon ash fell from her and littered it. Her ears were still ringing when Moran appeared furious at her. "You are an imbecile!" he yelled at the top of his lungs then froze. 

As much as he may have been angry at the short girl- he took in her appearance. She was covered head to foot in wood and there was blood on her. There was a slightly shell shocked look in her eyes. Moran froze- this was not the time. He could not do this right now. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and replied: "What happened?"

"it went off." she whispered gritting her teeth together as a tremor started in her arms. She was terrified- the adrenaline rush was gone. She had about died in a bomb with Sherlock Holmes. The irony was not lost on her. 

Moran shook his head and knew there was no point in comforting the twenty year old. She would either kick him or tell him to go away. His nose still throbbed but from the look in her eyes, this was not the time to yell at her about that or anything. Moran felt guilt flood in his chest. He knew he was too hard on the girl. But she was the owner of the network now and she was not using it well. He sighed and turned his back on the girl descending up the stair case. 

Varian Vargas. She was Anarchy's worse nightmare. She sunk to her knees in the small bathroom, filled with Lavender products. Anarchy hated the woman. She worked for an even worse woman once called Amondi Harlow. A woman who tortured and kept Anarchy... Anarchy shut her eyes against the memories flooding her. it had been six long years since she had been taken and used as a slave basically. Now she had her life back, but it felt wrong. 

She rose shakily and looked at herself in the mirror. Moran never asked what happened to her or why she turned up last year in bloody rags to only just learn her father was dead. Anarchy looked at her face then turned away. She hated looking at her eyes. They looked too much like her father and she hated it. 

She turned on her shower and stripped herself of her clothing as the front door closed. For the last few months Moran kept disappearing for days or weeks on end. Never telling her where he went or why. Not that she cared. Ever since she came back, their relationship had been strained. Anarchy hated her new life. She had hoped when she ended up on the steps, Jim would pay for her to go to mortuary school but no- he was dead and left a entire cursed thing to her! 

She got into the shower and barely felt the hot water. Once she was washed and dry she got out and wrapped a towel around herself before stomping to her room. She changed into a burgundy shirt and black jeans and walked downstairs. No one was here anymore- the arguments between her and Moran caused many servants to run. So now, Anarchy was left in a house that felt empty and had horrible memories. 

it was worse in the manor in Ireland. That place she refused to step foot. Pictures were everywhere of her and Jim and Moran. Here there was nothing. She had thrown them all at Moran and told him to put them in the other place. He had obliged but now the house was empty. Anarchy took a deep breath and made her way to the kitchen. 

She stuck the kettle on when there was a noise behind her. She turned as Varian slammed the book on her head. Anarchy hit the floor knocked out as Varian smirked and whispered bending down: "Now. Lets see who will save you now little girl." 

*

Moran returned a few days later and paused. Usually he could hear Anarchy playing the violin but tonight... it was silent. "Anarchy?" called Moran closing the front door when he walked upstairs. Everything was fine but Anarchy was not here. He rolled his eyes- maybe she went to find another bookshop to annoy. God knows why she volunteered there. 

He walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen when he about slipped over. he looked down grabbing the counter and froze. There was blood on the floor. "Anarchy!" he yelled more urgently this time. Nothing in Jim's office had been touched. Nothing was missing- only Anarchy. 

Moran felt his heart beat faster- oh god no. This was not good news! He should have paid more attention to Anarchy and the enemies but she was annoying him so. Moran put a hand to his mouth. This was not good news at all. Suddenly, he heard the front door open. 

Moran snatched the gun from his side, that was always there. He cocked it and walked out. "Where is she?" snarled Moran holding the gun at the other figure.


	11. Chapter ten

Anarchy felt like the world was on her shoulders. Her back ached and there was a throbbing pain in her head. She opened her eyes as blood dripped from her mouth and landed on her knee. The world was spinning and then a hand grabbed her face and shone a light in her eyes. "You hit her too hard Varian." snapped the male voice. "She could have died." 

Varian rolled her eyes and replied: "Well? Do you think it is possible?" The man sighed letting Anarchy drop her head again. What was possible? She wanted to know. Varian always did horrible things and this was just another latest one from her. "Yes. it will take some time but I am sure I can get her shoved there without anyone knowing." 

Anarchy felt her blood go cold. Shoved where? Without who knowing? Anarchy went to speak when fingers dug into her cheeks and lifted her head up. Varian with her long purple hair and glittering eyes laughed at the girl. "Look at you- so pathetic." She slammed Anarchy's head into the wall and the chair toppled over as Anarchy hissed in pain. Blood stung her eyes but she ignored this as the man tutted and put her chair back onto four legs. "Varian remember- her father may be dead but she still has a step father." 

Anarchy shook her head but no one was paying any attention to her. Why would Moran go after her? All she did was disappoint him. At least this way he could take control of the network and cast off a dead mans disappointment of a daughter. Anarchy shut her eyes knowing this would be the last thing she ever heard or saw. Tears fell down her cheeks. 

Maybe if she had listened and done what Moran or Jim had wanted, she would not be here. 

*

Two days had passed and still there was no Anarchy. Sherlock scowled as John replied: "Sherlock, you saw her father kill himself. Maybe she does not want to face you because of that." But Sherlock shook his head. he never saw an ounce of blame in her face or anything. So where was she? He paced up and down in his flat then sat down heavily in his chair. 

Mary made a tea and sat down next to her husband. "She is probably busy Sherlock." Suddenly the door flew open and Mark ran in. The nasty cut on his face was healed but he was frantic. "Hera! 'ave you seen 'er?" Sherlock shook his head waiting for the boy to catch his breath. "Well- the bookstore clerk Bram is going mental! Hera 'asn't turned up in two days and aint even rung 'im to say why!" Sherlock froze as John rose and snapped: "And she usually does?" 

"Course!" snapped Mark furiously. "But now there is word on the street that some criminal 'as Moriarty's daughter. What is they 'ave Hera?" Sherlock did not want to explain that Hera was that same person. He told Mark to go and find out more information. Anarchy had been kidnapped. But how?

"Surely she was protected." snapped Mary horrified at the turn of events. "Surely that blon-" Sherlock turned and pointed a finger at Mary. "We never spoke about that. He knew your name." Mary froze and replied: "In the past he was a target I had to kill. But it went wrong and he left with only a scar on his face." Sherlock nodded not caring about that anymore and snapped: "She sent him across London- I can only assume that he works for her." 

Mary nodded getting that impression too. John put a hand to his mouth when Mycroft appeared. "hello brother." he replied and scowled at Sherlock's face. Sherlock did not want to do this to the poor girl, but something about her- was not her father. 

"Okay- we have a missing person." replied Sherlock as Mary rose and snapped:" Sherlock!" John even looked gob smacked. After seeing the girl nearly died to save people, he actually liked her. Though he was not sure how anyone else would react to him saying that. "Missing person? I-" 

"It links to the case!" snapped Sherlock furiously. "Moriarty is dead and those magpie rhyme verses were by a lovely assistant of yours- Varian Vargas. More to the point- the daughter of Moriarty is missing and Varian Vargas has kidnapped her." Mycroft stared at his brother and stared laughing. Was he being serious? 

"He isn't lying." snapped Mary as the grin wiped off Mycroft's face and he froze. "And you tell me this now!" he yelled at his brother furiously. "How certain are you it is no-" Sherlock froze and then snarled: "because she risked her life running into a building that was going to explode!" 

Mycroft froze and his mind went back to the girl in the graveyard with the portrait of Moriarty. His face went white as he saw the girl running past him and getting tackled to the ground by Mary. He had seen her but had no idea. 

Mycroft had no words for his brother or the other two. Could they not see she had them under her thumb and she would squash them like a fly? Was he the only one with sense? He took a deep breath and replied: "Fine. What is her name?" 

"Anarchy Moriarty." snapped Sherlock, his tone light but strained. John put a hand to his mouth as Mycroft asked: "How old is she?" Sherlock froze and realised he had no idea. She looked about fifteen but she...could have been older. "Nineteen?" said Mary questioning it as she had no idea either. Now they thought about it, they had all assumed she was much older but...

"Twenty." replied Sherlock. Mycroft looked at him and shook his head and turned. His brother was gone but Sherlock had to find this girl. He had no idea why- but he had to find her before something awful happened to her. 

He grabbed his coat from the coat hanger and his scarf. John and Mary followed in silence. What if they found the girl dead? 

*

Anarchy opened her eyes again. She froze in horror, the sound of running water was all around her. She was hanging in mid air and was over looking a....she scowled seeing blocks connected together with long silver arms. Horror hit her badly- that sound she heard was not running water. 

It was trains around her. 

And she was hanging inches above a train track.


	12. Chapter eleven

Anarchy twisted, but her hands were so tightly bound, she could not feel her fingers anymore. She swung the chair forward but only proceeded in smacking her face into the wall of the tunnel. There was rumble as she spat soot out of her mouth and grumbled. 

it was pitch black and the air was stale. It smelt of oil and there were rats scurrying everywhere. She had noticed a glint of a metal door. Obviously where Varian had shoved her up and then tied her up like a rabbit to dry. Anarchy grumbled some more and tried to free her hands but it was no use. 

She yelled in fury then spat into thin air: "You bitch! You are gonna die in hell!" Anarchy swung backwards and forwards before slamming her face again into the side and yelled in even more fury. 

*

Sherlock after a day had no idea where she was. Varian Vargas had vanished and that man had vanished. Sherlock walked with John and Mary towards a small cafe. They paused as Varian appeared from nowhere and a there was a wide smirk on her face. It was not a nice smirk and had a horrible bloodlust under it. "Looking for her are we? I heard her- already threatening to tear my head off. Sounds just like her father." she replied with a glittering smile. As Sherlock went white and tried to not picture James Moriarty. 

"Where is she?" snarled Mary furiously as Varian shrugged and replied: "Funny how they have strikes, don't you think?" Sherlock scowled as John looked confused and then the colour vanished from Sherlock's face. He raced towards a news vendor and picked up the newspaper. There was a tube strike from Heathrow and South Borough. Mary looked horrified as the situation hit them. Anarchy was somewhere under London. 

Suddenly, Sherlock's phone blared and he picked it up seeing a number he had not seen in about four years. He paused not wanting to answer it but then did. "Hello?" But it was the English man who answered. "Where is she?" snapped the man furiously. Sherlock took a deep breath and snapped:" She is in control of his network, right? Shouldn't you be paying more attention to the girl?" 

He heard a hiss of anger from the man who snarled:" Holmes I am not playing a game. Where is she!" he yelled at him so loud that Sherlock had to pull the phone from his ear. "I believe she is under London." The person on the phone burst out laughing and replied: "How-" he paused as it dawned on him. The phone call cut off and ten minutes alter he was there. Sherlock glared at the man who snapped: "I am putting side our differences to find this girl." Sherlock glared at the blonde man and replied: "SO you worked for Moriarty as well." 

"Yes." replied the man with a snap. "And now I am trying to work for her." Mary paused as her brows furrowed. "Trying?" snapped John as the man laughed darkly and replied: "You do not know her. She has her fathers spirit and quite frankly temper. Whoever has kidnapped her and she lives- won't be alive for very long." Sherlock paused and shook his head as the man smirked and replied: "You have not seen the girl kill have you?" 

Sherlock had no time for this and snapped: "Whatever- send your men down the other side and we will search the other!" Moran paused and then shrugged. "Fine- but do not expect me to be kind after this." with that he turned on his heel and strode off putting his phone to his ear. Sherlock felt his gut wrench horribly. 

He put a hand to his mouth, realising he had just played with the devils assistant. He knew how badly this could go and that he would burn. Was it really worth burning for this girl?

*

Anarchy screamed in fury as as there was another rumble. No one was going to hear here down here. She had no idea how long she had been hanging up from the chair but...her throat was parched and she was hungry. She ignored the soot probably lining her throat and swung the chair more. She had seen a hook above her- she had kept swinging the chair and had come close to getting it off. 

Her heart hammered in her chest. There was more trains around her. She knew it because there was more rumbles every ten seconds than every thirty seconds. She took a deep breath and knew she had to get off the hook and fast. She gritted her teeth and threw herself forward then paused- something was wrong with the silver tracks. 

She cast her eyes down and saw the spark again. 

A train was heading straight for her.


	13. Chapter tweleve

Sherlock looked down the train shaft with his torch. Mary and John had gone to separate ones trying to stop the trains but it was too late. People were headed down them. Sherlock just prayed they are not too late. People watched him confused as he jumped onto the tracks and then yelled: "Oi! Are you mad!" 

he ignored them and kept walking down the shaft when something happened- the silver tracks in front of him sparked. He had to get through here and fast. A train was going to be coming any minute. With his heart in his mouth he ran fast. He paused seeing there was no on here. He turned to leave when he heard it. 

He froze straining his ears against the rumbling of trains around him and heard it again. Something was swinging. And something was cursing. 

Sherlock yelled: "Anarchy!" There was a sharp reply and he knew he had found her. He raced forward and then saw her. Her face was covered in soot and she was exhausted. The chair she was sat on was hanging up by a meat hook. He put the torch on the floor, illuminating her and reached up. His fingers brushed the ceiling dislodging soot. He coughed turning away then lifted her off it and placed her on the rumbling floor. 

He froze as Anarchy did, both their faces losing the colour. Sherlock knew he had mere seconds now. A train light was ahead of them. "The door!" yelled Anarchy as he looked with his heart pounding in his chest seeing it. He had to get the girl free however! His fingers worked over the knots and her hands were free but her feet were not. "Quickly!" she yelled as the train light was getting brighter. Sherlock bent down and his fingers slipped on the note, as his heart pounded in his chest. Anarchy was trying to get her fingers to work but they were refusing to work. Sherlock had to quickly undo that, when they looked up. 

The train was upon them and bearing down. 

*

John and Mary were brought to the train office. Mycroft had found out and cursed his brother and was there now as well. All the CTV on all the trains were turned on and everyone froze. Sherlock and the girl had appeared but the train was on them. Mary put a ahnd to her mouth then turned away- she could not watch a very good friend of hers die! 

Suddenly the train was on them and there was a cut out. John yelled in fury as Mycroft ordered his people to go down in that tunnel. John had his heart in his mouth. Sherlock could be dead. Sherlock could be dead and because of that girl! He felt anger at her and raced to wherre they were- he had to know. 

*

Sherlock and Anarchy slammed down the staircase as the train slammed to a screech obliterating the chair. Anarchy breathed heavily clutching Sherlock's coat in utter fear as Sherlock clutched her in fear as well. "How old are you?" snapped Sherlock as Anarchy looked up at him and snapped:" What?" 

Sherlock looked at her then took a deep breath. "I cannot tell if you are fifteen or twenty." She rolled her eyes and replied:" Twenty." he breathed a sigh of relief- this would have been ten times worse somehow if it had been a fifteen year old. Anarchy let him go, even though her hand was shaking like hell and looked at the stairs leading down into a darkness. She licked her lips with a dry tongue and said: "Come on." 

Sherlock looked at her and grabbed her wrist, as he rose shakily from the floor and replied: "You nearly died. You think going down there is going to help?" Anarchy sent him a look and snatched her wrist free. "You go- I want to-" 

"Fine." muttered Sherlock darkly as he followed the girl groping the walls for a way down. Soon the ground evened out under their feet as they made forward and paused. There was police tape in front of them leading to an abandoned and old train station. Anarchy sighed wiping more soot from her hand, across her face. "How long have I been missing?" she replied feeling incredibly weak and ill, but forcing it down. 

"Three days." replied Sherlock as she shrugged and then ducked under the yellow sooty police tape and walked into the abandoned train station. Sherlock paused- there was bright lights everywhere and in front of them holding a gun at them- was Varian Vargas. 

*

John forced the door to the tube open, not wanting the memories of the bomb on one under Parliament to go through his mind but it did. He forced it down and raced down when he saw the door way. Mary was close behind him with Moran following slyly. John raced out opening the doors and jumping out to the staircase. he saw the remains of a torch spluttering and a chair. It was then the voices lifted towards him and he knew it was that woman. Without looking back, he took the gun from his pocket and raced down the stairs towards them.

*

Sherlock paused as Anarchy looked at the woman growing deadly calm. She held the gun unflinching and shook her head. "Sherlock, I had more faith you would let the bitch die." Anarchy kept her face cool as John exploded behind them and sighed in relief. Suddenly he yelled as a bullet was shot near him and the gun flew from his grasp. Anarchy had dived to the side but grabbed it and shoved it up her shirt, knowing this woman had to die. 

John did not seem to notice his gun was gone, or if he did, he assumed it fell down to the tracks- way out of his reach. No one had seen Anarchy taking it. She had never taken another life and she was not sure if she could now. But she knew she had to die- there was no way around this. 

"Sherlock why do you disappoint me so?" John was grabbed by his friend, who was fine and had no bullet holes in him. Mary appeared and Sherlock cursed under his breath but now there was four against one. Anarchy knew then what she had to do. What she was meant to do along. 

She took a deep breath, she should never have left it. Or refused the cases were people were to die. She should have done it and dealt with it. She could have curbed Vargas before she even started. But no she had been weak and pathetic, like Moran said. 

She took a deep breath of the stale air as Varian replied: "You have disappointed me greatly." Varian wiped her purple hair from her face as Moran appeared and she smiled. Moran looked at Anarchy and relief went over his face but he paused. The girl was not paying attention to anyone but Varian. Something was wrong. Her eyes were blank and she looked resigned. 

Varian smiled at Anarchy not seeing this change as no one else did. "And my dear Anarchy. I really should have killed you all those years ago." More people with guns appeared and Sherlock felt his breath go. They were going to die down here and no one would know. They would die and bleed out on the floor. Moran paused having the same thought. 

He knew Anarchy would not step up so he stepped forward. "Oh hello Moran. What do you want?" whispered Varian her voice carrying far and smirking. "You are going-" Anarchy saw he was about to take control and snapped:" Moran that is not your place it is mine." Moran turned and laughed shaking his head. "Anarchy- you never took his place. You refuse to-" 

"I am not refusing now." she whispered stepping forward as Varian laughed and trained the gun on Sherlock still. "Refusing to do your duty? Does your father want you to take over?" Anarchy kept her flaring temper down. She was lost- she had no idea what to do! She was screaming at herself. "Point your gun elsewhere. Sherlock is not your toy." snarled Anarchy as Sherlock looked at Anarchy as Varian replied: "And he is yours?" Anarchy took the gun from under her shirt and Moran paused as Varian looked confused but John went white. 

Anarchy cocked it and held it steadily at Varian, who lost the colour in her face. "You know my skill with a gun." she whispered as Varian hand shook holding the gun but then she burst out laughing and replied: "Enough of this." She whirled the gun around as Anarchy's heart went in her mouth. She fired it straight at Sherlock. Anarchy turned running as Sherlock ducked the first bullet but a second one was speeding towards him. 

Moran had no time to react as Anarchy shoved Sherlock hard. he hit the floor as she whirled the gun and fired. Blood erupted from her collarbone and she was falling down. Varian made no sound as the bullet tore through her brain and killed her instantly. Anarchy felt the pain as the bullet tore through her shoulder and horror hit her. 

Oh my god- I am going to die lie James! Horror gripped her as she slammed into the floor and felt tears run from her eyes. "I am going to die." she whispered under her breath as voices yelled and hands grabbed her but she knew there was no hope- the blood was pumping out of her collarbone to fast. She shut her eyes slowly feeling the tears drip between them. 

Moran was yelling at her and she opened her eyes, he was gripping her shoulders. She could not feel a thing but looked at him and whispered: "i am sorry- to have disappointed you." Then she shut her eyes.


	14. Chapter thirteen

Two days later, Sherlock was in the hospital. She had somehow survived but now she was laying cold as a corpse with a tube down her throat. Mary and John stayed silent. The girl had risked her life for Sherlock and could still die. John sat on a green plastic chair at the back as Sherlock sat at the bedside trying to keep calm. But there was no way he could keep calm. 

Her skin was pale and her eyes were staring blankly into space. Sherlock thought back to the nightmare that had ensued. She had run at him and shoved him. Next thing, there was an explosion of blood and she was on the floor. Moran had grabbed her but dropped her in shock- whatever she said to him, had hit home. He had left soon after with a horrified and grief stricken face. Mycroft had appeared as Mary and John tried to stop the bleeding. Varian was dead and her followers had scattered. Anarchy had been pulled up to the surface but had died twice and now she lay here breathing shallowly. 

Sherlock put his head in his hands. He went to save the girl and she now ended up where she should not have been. 

*

Moran paused before he entered the house. "I am sorry- I disappointed you." her words rung through his head and he was numb. He had been to hard on the girl. He had been too horrible to her. He had not stopped to think about what he was doing to the girl. He was furious she wasn't listening. 

He sunk to his knees shaking in rage. How could he expect a twenty year old to take on the job she had? he gripped his hair between his hands, furious at himself. What were they going to think? How was he going to relay she was dead or nearly dead? Moran knew she was in the hospital but she was better off dead. 

What had happened to her at the hands of Amondi Harlow? Why had he never paused to think about that? Moran paused and knew what they had to do. Kill Amondi Harlow. There was no doubt in his mind that she was better off dead. The woman had sent Varian after Anarchy and now Amondi had what she wanted in her grasp, of the sorts. 

A dying girl but no diamonds. That is all this boiled down too- those damn diamonds Anarchy hid and would not even tell Moran where they were! 

He paused taking a deep breath, this was not going to go well. For months Moran had held them back from appearing in front of Anarchy and now- he had to tell them she was dying. Dying from a bullet. 

Moran paused his hand hovering over the brass door handle then opened the door to the house. It felt empty and dead. No violin music flooded down to him or Anarchy making some comment to him. All it was, was the sound of a person talking on a phone. 

Moran crossed himself, even though he was not religious. This was not going to go down well in the slightest. Moran slowly walked up the stairs and got to the office. An office Anarchy never entered. He pushed open the door to see the person had their feet on the desk and then grinned at Moran. 

Moran paused. "Anarchy." The person stuck their feet down and it never failed to impress Moran how they were sat their. 

James Moriarty looked at Moran and scowled. "What about Anarchy?" 

On the day Moran had found the blood on the floor, the door had opened and he had whirled around pointing a gun at someone yelling:" Where is she?" He stopped and looked horrified. James was meant to be in the Irish manor- but no he decided to come to London. He had laughed and replied: "Point that elsewhere. And I assume you meant Anarchy?" Moran had told him she was missing and his face had changed. Now Moran was stood in front of him feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

"Anarchy is in hospital." replied Moran looking at the floor. He had failed to protect the girl, like he had promised Jim. "What?" snapped Jim rising with fury going over his face. "Varian was meant to shoot Shelrock Holmes and Anarchy-" He swallowed seeing the image explode in front of him. "-jumped in front of him and killed Varian but at the same time, has nearly killed herself." 

To say he was unhappy, was the understatement of the century.


	15. Epilogue

Two days later, Sherlock came back from the hospital and stumbled into his flat. It was over. The flies and everything on Moriarty was recovered from Varian Vargas. Sherlock felt relieved it was over and sat putting his hands over his face. The girl was stable but the nurses and doctors said there was a chance she could not wake up. Ever. 

The papers had stopped calling Sherlock a lair went Mycroft went on record putting Varian out as the person who was using his name. Sherlock rose and decided he need to get his mind off this. He rose and turned on the TV when all the lights and his TV shut off. He froze confused and turned and looked in shock- out the window the street lights and everything else were off. 

His phone went off to see Mycroft was calling him. "Yes?" asked Sherlock confused. "We have a problem." replied Mycroft sounding tired and fed up. "Someone has turned the lights off in the U.K." Sherlock froze confusion flying across his face. "And this is my problem why?" Mycroft cursed at him and snapped: "Sherlock- this is everyones problem!" Sherlock sighed, he knew his brother had a point but he was tired and wanted a break. 

"Cont-" the phone cut dead and Sherlock looked at it to see the signal was gone. He sighed, this was not good. Something bad was happening. Suddenly everything flooded back on and he sighed in relief. he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen when his TV went static. 

The hair rose on his neck and he turned. There was static on the screen. He walked over trying to shut his TV off but it was not working. Sherlock backed up as John and Mary entered. They had come over to see how he was and looked confused. "All the lights went out." muttered John putting a take away on the coffee table as Mary went to turn off the TV but froze. It was not turning off. 

Mary backed up as screen started to wave and change. John looked at it and went to say he needs to get TV fixed, when everyone froze. The room fell deadly silent as they stared in horror. Mary put her hand to her mouth as Sherlock walked backwards shaking his head muttering it was not possible. 

Moriarty was grinning at them from the TV, with the words: Back bitches, you better watch out. 

Sherlock felt the world collapse around him, as everything fell black.


End file.
